


Under Your Skin

by iwriteinpen



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Alternate Universe - Magic, Banter, Daishou isn't actually an asshole, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Implied/Referenced BokuAka, M/M, Magic, Slow Burn, Tattoo Artist Daishou Suguru, Tattoo Artist Kuroo Tetsurou, Urban Fantasy, actually it's more like idiots to lovers, bickering turned flirting, except it's two tattoo parlors, implied/referenced kagehina, magic tattoos, more like rivals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-12 14:29:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28511943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwriteinpen/pseuds/iwriteinpen
Summary: Daishou Suguru owns a tattoo shop. You walk in, maybe you have an idea, maybe you just had a feeling you were supposed to come by today. He’ll have an appointment in your name, though you don’t recall calling in beforehand. He will hold your hand, stare into your eyes (soul), and he’ll know. He’ll see the tattoo you need. Maybe you’ll get a cat sleeping on your collarbone, feeling its warmth and its purr on sad days. A sunflower that always looks to the one you love wherever they are. A compass always pointing home.Kuroo owns a different tattoo shop. You call in, make an appointment, and get the tattoo you want. It is very ordinary.One day, Bokuto shows Kuroo his new tattoo. This introduces him to Daishou. The two don’t exactly get along. Curiosity just might get the best of Kuroo in this one.In the middle of this pissing contest, Yachi gets a tattoo and meets probably the most beautiful woman she has ever seen.
Relationships: Daishou Suguru/Kuroo Tetsurou, Shimizu Kiyoko/Yachi Hitoka
Comments: 5
Kudos: 50
Collections: Haikyuu!! Urban Fantasy Bang





	Under Your Skin

The cars are whipping by. Rain is falling. Sprays of water from the cars fall on the pedestrians walking by. Grey skyscrapers fade into a grey sky.

A girl in a pink hoodie sticks out in the sea of grey and dreariness. She walks with long strides, and her boots click against the sidewalk. The sounds from the cars make her sniffles impossible to hear for other pedestrians. She wipes her face with the way too long sleeve of her hoodie.

Yachi walks with no real goal in my mind, only a persistent feeling of having to walk somewhere. The stream of people seems to lessen around her as she turns right down a street she has never noticed before. Most of the facades of the stores are light colours and bright.

Yachi stops in front of a shop that seems unlike the others. The facade is dark green. The letters on the sign have faded.

She stands in front of it, just looking through the glass panel. Slowly, she opens the door and steps into the shop. The interior is dark but in a cosy way. Yachi walks with careful steps as if not to interrupt anything.

A young man steps out from a back room. He is tall, dark-haired. Yachi takes a step back.

“Uhh...” she starts.

“Do you have an appointment?” he says to her as he steps behind the counter.

Yachi only shakes her head, still trying to figure out exactly what is going on.

The man looks at her for a second before calling out in the direction of the backroom, “It’s one of yours!”

“Just a minute,” he tells Yachi and disappears again.

Seconds later, a slightly shorter man walks out of the backroom. His hair is dark, maybe green, maybe black. He has a tattoo of a snake coiled around his neck, and Yachi almost swears she can see it slithering. The look in his eyes makes her want to run for the hills and stay forever, at the same time.

The man looks straight into her eyes, a shiver runs down Yachi’s spine. “What can I do for you?”

“Uhm… I don’t know,” Yachi whispers. “I just kind of walked around and ended up here,” she explains.

He takes Yachi’s hand and holds it very gently. The snake on his neck raises its head, sticks out its tongue, and though she can’t hear it, Yachi knows it hisses at her.

Eyes widening, she removes her attention from the tattoo and meets his eyes.

He almost looks through her, eyes glowing ever-so-slightly gold. She can’t take her eyes away.

The seconds tick away, but for Yachi, it feels like a small eternity before the man blinks and the glow fades.

“So why do you need some extra comfort?” he walks away from Yachi and over to the counter.

“Oh, how did y-you?” Yachi stammers.

“You and I both know, you know about magic.” he shrugs and motions for her to keep talking. He starts drawing on a sketch pad.

“Uhm,” Yachi twirls a strand of hair around her finger, “I just had a not-so-fun breakup,” she whispers, looking at the floor.

“Is that it?” He looks up from his paper and puts the pencil down.

Yachi shrugs. “I guess, I’ve always been an anxious person in general,” Yachi admits.

“So first of all, I’m Daishou Suguru, and the tattoo I have for you...” the man, Daishou, begins, but he doesn’t make it further into his sentence.

“Tattoo?!” Yachi squeaks.

“Yes.” Daishou looks at the wide-eyed girl in front of him. “It’s magic so it will help you, but only if you want it.”

Hesitantly, Yachi lets her shoulders relax, and the scared look disappears from her face.

“So what can it do?” She tilts her head slightly to the left.

Never in his life has he seen such a small girl, Daishou thinks to himself.

“Well, first things first—” he slides a paper towards Yachi “—it’s a kitten. I take it, you like cats?”

Yachi nods. “Always wanted one, my boyfriend is allergic, though,” she says. A second passes before she corrects herself, “Uhm, the ex-boyfriend.” She looks down.

“Perfect.” Daishou smiles. “The kitten will be able to move just like my snake.” As if on command, the snake slithers down from its place around Daishou’s neck and ends up at the hand pointing at the paper.

“It might find a favourite spot, again like this one.” The snake has coiled itself around Daishou’s neck once more. “You will also be able to feel it purr or warm up slightly when you need some comfort.” Daishou keeps his voice soft; the girl looks frightened enough without him actively scaring her.

Yachi looks at the paper, a cat drawn with soft strokes lies curled up almost forming a perfect circle with its tail. It looks like it might get up and walk across the paper any moment. She reaches out and lets a few fingers glide over the drawing.

She nods and says, “Okay.”

“Come with me.” Daishou guides her to the back where the tattoo gear is set up.

“I’m guessing, you haven’t brought anything to drink or a snack?” he asks as Yachi gets settled on one of the beds.

“No.” Yachi’s voice is still small, but Daishou thinks the tinge of fear has disappeared.

“Here.” He hands her a chocolate bar and a soda. “You should drink and eat some of it before and after, it won’t take long, but just to be safe.” He gives her a smile.

“We didn’t talk about where to put it, but what do you think about here?” He places a hand in the space between her collarbone and shoulder. Yachi nods, having just taken a bite of the chocolate bar.

“Good, then I just need you to take off your shirt on that arm,” he says. He turns around for a few seconds to get his gear ready and puts on gloves. Yachi pulls her left arm out of the sleeve.

“Now, this might be a little uncomfortable, but one upside with magical tattoos is that they don’t hurt as much.” He wipes the spot for the tattoo with disinfectant and applies the stencil. “But if you need me to stop, just tell me, okay?”

Yachi nods, but her fear of this place has left her entirely, and now only curiosity for the process and her final tattoo remains.

Daishou starts the machine.

*

Across town, Bokuto has walked into Kuroo’s tattoo shop as he usually does, a coffee in each hand and a smile on his face. After handing the coffee to Kuroo, he sits down on the counter.

“What’s that?” Kuroo points to the small line of black visible below the sleeve of Bokuto’s t-shirt. Bokuto seems confused for a second but then his eyes widen.

“Oh,” he looks away from Kuroo, “you know I love you, right, bro?” Bokuto rubs the back of his neck.

Kuroo raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. “You got a tattoo.”

“Listen, there’s this dude, and his tattoos are m-” Bokuto cuts himself off. “His tattoos are very cool, and I couldn’t not get one, you know?” Bokuto rambles on.

“Well, can I see it?” Kuroo asks, and Bokuto smiles.

“Sure, dude.” He pulls up his sleeve and shows the band circling all the way around his biceps.

Kuroo steps closer to him to be able to see the details.

“It’s nice.” Kuroo leans back, Bokuto squints his eyes at him.

“But?” Bokuto deciphers Kuroo's tone easily, a perk of having known Kuroo for such a long time.

“It’s kind of ordinary though, isn’t it?” Kuroo is blunt, he doesn’t mean anything cruel by it, he has just never been one to shy away from expressing his own thoughts.

“Maybe to you.” Bokuto sticks out his tongue, and Kuroo laughs.

“Who is this guy, anyway?” Kuroo asks.

“His name is Daishou, he has a shop not far from here,” Bokuto explains. “He also did Yachi’s tattoo.”

“Wait, Yachi got a tattoo?” Kuroo raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t think she’d be brave enough.”

“Apparently she walked in all alone.” Bokuto shrugs, but he can see the gears turning in Kuroo’s head as he tells him more about the other tattoo artist.

*

The next day, when Kuroo goes on his usual coffee run, he strays a little further.  
Bokuto’s words of “he has a shop not far from here” from yesterday drive Kuroo's feet forward. Well, it drives him to google tattoo shops nearby, and then it drives him to follow the instructions of Google Maps.

While he walks, Kuroo tries to ignore the spark of curiosity, but each step only fans the flames, and the burning in his chest can only be extinguished by seeing what his competition does that makes him so special. So special, in fact, that his best friend chose to get Daishou’s tattoo instead of one of Kuroo’s tattoos. And not only Bokuto but Yachi too.

“You have arrived,” the phone in his hand says. Kuroo looks up, he is standing in front of a dark green shop. It looks menacing, almost like a black hole in contrast to the light facades of the surrounding shops.

He packs the phone away, tries to look in through the windows, seeing more green and dark furniture but no one working.

He walks past the tattoo shop, telling himself that that should be enough and that he definitely doesn’t need to go inside. He doesn’t walk far before he turns around, the flame of curiosity not yet extinguished, and he feels a tug back towards the shop.

He walks in, opening the door as carefully as possible, with silent, hesitating steps. He’s just short of tiptoeing. He takes in the room, the dark walls seemingly closing in on him, as if they know, he isn’t supposed to be there.

He tries to distract himself from the walls by looking at the artwork displayed on the tables. It isn’t bad, Kuroo thinks to himself, but he could do all of that too, so where’s the thing that makes this guy so special.

“Can I help you?” a voice startles him, interrupting his snooping.

“Uhh, no?” Kuroo says it more like a question, causing the stranger in front of him to raise his eyebrows.

“What are you doing here then?” they ask Kuroo.

“Uhhh, nothing?” Again, the unsureness of Kuroo’s response clears up nothing for the stranger.

He crosses his arms as he looks Kuroo up and down. “Uh-huh, sure.”

“Are you Daishou?” Kuroo gathers some courage and asks what he came here to find out.

“Yeah, and you are?” Daishou says, building a wall with his tone.

“What makes you so special?” Kuroo's fear and hesitation has been wholly burned away by his curiosity.

“Who are you?” Daishou doesn’t move an inch.

“Kuroo Tetsurou and you’ve been tattooing my friends,” Kuroo states, raising his chin as if he had proposed a duel at dawn.

“So?” Daishou doesn’t catch the challenge.

“So, why did they pick you and not me?” Kuroo keeps his resolve.

“That really feels like something you should take up with them.” Daishou moves to go behind the counter.

“I did, and they say you’re special, so how?” Kuroo says. “I’ve seen the artwork you have lying around, and it’s not better than anything I could do.”

“Hey!” Daishou calls out. “If you were really that good, I’m sure your friends  
would have picked you,” he says.

“But they didn’t,” Kuroo counters weakly.

“Why don’t you take your overinflated ego and go bother them instead?” Daishou asks.

Kuroo crosses his arms. “My ego is the perfect size, thank you very much.”

“Oh clearly.” The sarcasm drips from Daishou’s tongue.

“Also, why is your shop so dark? Are you trying to be edgy or something?” Kuroo gestures to the whole of the shop.

“Oh, you’re an interior designer now, too?” Daishou teases.

“Or did you do it so that your clients can’t see how ugly the tattoos are?” Kuroo bites back.

“I’ll have you know that all my clients are happy, including your friends.” Daishou includes the last line as a punch to the gut.

“You know what?” Kuroo says. Daishou raises a single eyebrow. “Fuck you,” Kuroo spits and leaves the shop and Daishou behind.

Hiroo comes out into the front room. “What was that about?” he asks.

“I have no idea.” Daishou shakes his head. “Funny guy, though.”

Hiroo looks at Daishou. “Funny?” he says.

Daishou looks at the door through which Kuroo disappeared. “Yeah.”

*

As Kuroo goes for coffee the next day, his mind strays further down the road, to the other tattoo shop. He walks in, and the comfort of the known atmosphere pulls his mind back.

The café is bustling with sounds. People talking, coffee machines whirring and chairs sliding on the floor.

The barista calls out Kuroo's name, and he takes the hot cup of coffee in his hands. He looks around, trying to find an empty table but sees none. As he scans the room, his eyes lock on a familiar face. The green hair, the neck tattoo, both stick out in the sea of college students gathered at the cafe.

Kuroo lifts his other hand, the one not holding the coffee, to his own hair, suddenly aware that he might stick out in the same way, his tattoo just slightly poking out at the neck of his shirt.

Daishou finally looks up from his phone and locks eyes with Kuroo. He immediately rolls his eyes, and while this might have angered Kuroo if it was anyone else, but for some reason, when it’s Daishou, he puts on a smirk and saunters over to the empty chair next to the green-haired man.

“Do you mind?” Kuroo pulls out the chair but disregards the glare clearly meant as an answer to his question.

“So, what brings you here?” Kuroo leans over the table. The snake on Daishou’s neck seems to be following his movements with its one tiny eye. Kuroo furrows his brow but quickly shakes the feeling.

Daishou rolls his eyes again. “I’m meeting a client.” His voice is rough and the words clipped.

“Here?” Kuroo quirks a black eyebrow.

“Yeah, my shop is just down the street.” Daishou nods in the direction of his shop.

“So is mine,” Kuroo nods in the opposite direction, “so why haven’t I seen you here before?”

“I’m just lucky, I guess,” Daishou bites back.

Kuroo leans back and ignores Daishou's comment.

“So, who are you meeting?” Kuroo keeps his tone light, not really in the mood for a battle of wits.

“Why is that any of your business?” Daishou, on the other hand, is ready to fight. If he were an actual snake, he may just have bared his fangs.

Kuroo looks down to his neck, but the snake there is still, no fangs bared. Kuroo has the feeling that they should be.

“Maybe I know them? Like I know Bokuto.” Kuroo shrugs resting in the chair.

“She doesn’t seem like your kind of crowd,” Daishou answers. “I’m even surprised Bokuto is your kind of crowd.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kuroo just might change his stance on the fight thing. If he’d been a cat, he would have been preparing for the pounce right about now.

“You’re just kind of ordinary,” Daishou looks Kuroo dead in the eye, “and they aren’t.”

“Ordinary?” Kuroo shakes his head. “I’m ordinary?”

Just then, the door opens and a blond girl steps into the café, her pink sweater and white skirt in stark contrast to the fall clothes of everybody else. She has a small basket clutched in her hands.

Daishou sighs in relief. “Ahh, there she is.”

“You’re meeting Yachi?” Kuroo whisper-shouts.

“Wait, you really do know her?” Daishou asks, not trying to mask his surprise.

“Yeah, I’ve known her since high school.” Kuroo looks at Yachi.

Yachi, on the other hand, hasn’t noticed the two men talking about her. She steps into the line for the till at the same time as someone else.

“I’m sorry,” Yachi says, while looking at the floor, “please go ahead.”

The other person politely declines, and at the sound of her voice, Yachi lifts her eyes and looks at her.

“I’m sure you were here first,” the woman says. The most beautiful woman Yachi has ever seen. Her hair is straight and black as the night sky, her eyes deep and warm, and there's something about her that just draws you in.

She must have just come from work, Yachi notes in her head, as she looks at the woman’s pencil skirt and warm-toned turtleneck. Yachi can’t help but keep looking, her cheeks feeling warmer by the second.

The line moves forward but neither woman moves.

“I’m s-sorry,” Yachi mutters again and takes a step.

“I’m Kiyoko Shimizu,” Kiyoko says, and Yachi quickly gives her own name in return.

The two manage to order their drinks successfully, Yachi only sounding slightly unsure.

While waiting for their drinks to be made, the two small-talk.

“Are you meeting anyone?” Kiyoko nods to the basket in Yachi’s one hand.

“Yes.” Yachi looks around and finally spots Daishou and Kuroo. “He’s over there.”

Kiyoko follows Yachi’s eyes and sees the two men, both scowling at the other.

Kiyoko rolls her eyes. “I’m meeting the idiot next to him. So, why are you meeting Daishou?”

“He did my tattoo, and I wanted to thank him.” Yachi lifts the basket in her hand as a form of explanation.  
The barista calls their names in quick succession. They stand, each with a drink in hand, looking at each other. Yachi opens her mouth as if to say something but quickly closes it again.

“Should we go interrupt them?” Kiyoko nods her head in the direction of Daishou and Kuroo, who are still glaring at each other and exchanging snarky comments.

Yachi gives a small nod and follows Kiyoko in the direction of the boys.

“Kuroo,” Kiyoko interrupts whatever it was that they had going on.

“Kiyoko!” Kuroo springs up. “Well, I better get going then. Daishou, I’ll see you around.” Kuroo gives Daishou a smirk.

“I hope not,” Daishou huffs but quickly smiles at Yachi. “Good to see you again, Yachi”

“Hello.” Yachi sits down on the chair Kuroo has now left vacant.

“It was nice to meet you, Yachi, I hope we’ll see each other again,” Kiyoko says while Kuroo tries to get her to follow him out of the shop.

“You— me— you, too,” Yachi manages to get out, her cheeks heat up just ever-so-slightly. Kiyoko smiles at her one last time before heading out of the shop after an impatient Kuroo.

*

Kiyoko walks into Kuroo’s shop a day later, heels clacking on the floor, a coffee in each hand.

“Aren’t you casual today?” Kuroo greets her and takes the coffee from her with a thanks.

Kiyoko rolls her eyes at him. “Do you have time, or is someone coming in now?” she asks.

“Yachi is bringing a friend in for a consultation in a bit.” Kuroo pulls out a chair for Kiyoko to sit down in.

“Oh, that’s nice,” Kiyoko says as she sits down in the chair.

“So, what brings you here?” Kuroo asks as he takes a sip from the coffee.

“I have the day off, so I just wanted to stop by,” Kiyoko shrugs and takes a sip from her own coffee.

“Did you get this from Akaashi?” Kuroo asks, holding up the coffee cup.

“Yes. He says hi by the way.” Kiyoko nods.

“I swear I can taste the difference,” Kuroo laughs.

They continue to chat until the door bursts open. Both Kuroo and Kiyoko turn their heads to see an orange-haired figure bouncing in through the door.

“WOOOOAAH, SO COOL!” he yells.

Kiyoko shoots Kuroo a mildly concerned look.

A few seconds after, Yachi follows him in through the door.

“Sorry about him,” she says. “He’s just very excited,” she apologizes on her friend's behalf.

Yachi looks around and lays eyes on Kiyoko who looks much different from the first time they met. Her pencil skirt and turtleneck replaced with black jeans and a white t-shirt. Underneath the t-shirt, one tattooed rose pokes out.

“H-hi,” Yachi says softly, directed mainly at Kiyoko.

Meanwhile, Hinata steals Kuroo’s attention, telling him about his motivation for getting a tattoo. The two of them have walked a few meters away from where the girls are now sitting.

“Kageyama, my friend, got a tattoo,” Hinata starts. Kuroo nods. “It’s so cool, like, obviously I’m cool, too, so I need to get one, too, because Kageyama isn’t THAT cool, and he definitely isn’t cooler than me,” Hinata rambles on.

“Kid, chill.” Kuroo laughs at Hinata’s fast words.

“I’m super chill.” Hinata bounces slightly as he speaks.

“What do you want your tattoo to be?” Kuroo asks, trying to get Hinata to focus on what he came here for.

“Crows, like, flying! And a volleyball!” Hinata gestures with his hands.

“Hmmm, okay.” Kuroo looks back at the girls, still talking. “Where do you want it?”

“Here!” Hinata slaps the left side of his chest.

“Okay, and how are you with needles?” Kuroo asks. Hinata’s eyes widen.

“NEEDLES?” he yells, drawing the attention of Kiyoko and Yachi who both turn to see what caused this outburst.

“Yeah, you do know how a tattoo is done right?” Kuroo asks, shooting Yachi a questioning glance.

Yachi shrugs.

“Eh no,” Hinata rubs the back off his neck, “but Kageyama did it, so I definitely can, too.” The determination returns to his voice as fast as it left.

“Okay.” Kuroo rubs his forehead. “So I’ll do that tattoo by putting the ink into your skin by puncturing it many times with a mechanical needle, it does sound worse than it is, but it can hurt.”

All the colour drains from Hinata’s face. “Okay.” He swallows. “I can do it.”

“Of course.” Kuroo chuckles. “Well, now that we’ve talked, I’ll draw a few options for you, and then you can come back in a few days, and we’ll talk some more, how does that sound?” Kuroo presents the option calmly.

“Okay!” Hinata smiles.

The two of them walk back over to the girls, still doing small talk.

“Already finished?” Kiyoko asks.

“Yeah, I’ll see him again in a few days.” Kuroo pats Hinata’s back. “He’ll think about it, I’ll draw.”

“Well then, we’ll get going again.” Yachi stands up and the two of them make their way towards the door.

“Oh, wait,” Kiyoko says and stands, too.

Yachi stops and turns around. “Yeah?” she whispers.

“Would you like to go on a date?” Kiyoko asks. “We could get dinner at the café tomorrow if that fits with your schedule.”

Yachi’s face goes beet red. “I would love to,” Yachi says, though her gaze is fixated on the floor. “Um, is seven okay?” she quietly suggests.

“It’s perfect.” Kiyoko smiles. “I’ll see you there.”

“Yes.” Yachi all but runs out of the shop, leaving a smiling Kiyoko behind.

“Soo, Yachi huh?” Kuroo nudges her, bursting the bubble of happiness she built around herself at that moment.

“Yeah,” Kiyoko says, feeling no need to elaborate.

*

Yachi stares intently at the grey sidewalk, her hands clasped together in front of her. She can feel the warmth in her cheeks despite the cool breeze.

The edge of her dress flows as she walks, and with a sharp intake of breath she realises, she’s probably overdressed. Her heartbeat picks up at the thought of the possible upcoming embarrassment. She doesn’t want to make a fool out of herself in front of Kiyoko and especially not on their first date together. She always looks so beautiful and just perfect no matter what situation.

The cafe door suddenly grows out of the sidewalk in front of her, and the warm wood of it seems a comfort.

She walks in, eyes searching the room for Kiyoko, not finding her.

“Oh no, I’m too early,” Yachi whispers to herself, debating in her head whether or not she should wait outside for the other. No sooner than the thought strikes her, the door behind Yachi opens, and Kiyoko walks in.

Yachi looks at Kiyoko’s heels, her black, flowy skirt and blue turtleneck, and once again worries that her own pink dress and sneakers look childish in comparison.

“Yachi,” Kiyoko greets her. “You look beautiful.” She gives Yachi a smile and all the worries leave Yachi’s head.

“Kiyoko,” Yachi smiles bright, lighting up the room, “thank you. So do you,” she says without stumbling over any words or stuttering.

“Shall we go sit?” Kiyoko takes Yachi’s hand and pulls Yachi with her towards an empty booth. Yachi’s face heats up as she feels Kiyoko’s soft hands in her own.

Both women take off their jackets and place them on the empty half of the couch. They take a seat opposite of each other.

It’s silent as they read the menu, and the first words spoken are by the waitress coming to take their order. They both order, and the waitress leaves them to their silence again.

“So, Yachi.” Kiyoko breaks the silence first. “What do you do?” she asks.

“I’m a graphic designer,” Yachi says. “I do mainly logos and advertisements right now, but I’m also new in the business.”

“You must be very creative,” Kiyoko compliments her.

“Oh, it’s not that hard.” Yashi plays with a strand of hair. “What about you?” she asks in return.

“I manage a sports shop,” Kiyoko answers. “I’ve always been good at managing and liked sports so it worked out perfectly.” Kiyoko laughs lightly. The sound reminds Yachi of twinkling stars.

“Oh wow, that’s so cool,” Yachi says, eyes wide.

“It’s nothing special,” Kiyoko says, but she still blushes at the praise.

“So how do you know Kuroo?” Kiyoko deflects the attention off of herself by asking Yachi a question.

“We met through volleyball back in high school.” Yachi smiles as she remembers that time. “What about you two?”

“We met at business school,” Kiyoko says. “Believe it or not, he needed help, so I helped him for a little bit, and then we became friends.”

They’re interrupted by the waitress bringing their drinks.

“I met Daishou through volleyball though,” Kiyoko says once the waitress leaves again.

“Really? He played too?” Yachi asks.

“Yeah, he wasn’t bad, though,” Kiyoko says. “Once you got past the rule-bending.” She laughs at the memories.

“Rule-bending?” Yachi says.

“Well, cheating sounds too harsh,” Kiyoko smiles.

“That doesn’t sound good either,” Yachi giggles.

“Maybe not,” Kiyoko says.

Once again the two are interrupted by the waitress, this time she brings their food. As they start eating, their talking slows, but they continue. The candles on their table cast soft light onto their faces as the candles grow shorter and shorter.

Next door, the situation has the potential to be much less peaceful.

Kuroo sits in a chair nursing an almost cold coffee as he waits. Daishou walks in and orders his coffee from the barista that has been so unlucky to get the late shift. He turns around, coffee in hand. Kuroo looks up from his coffee in the same moment and the two lock eyes.

The small sounds of the coffee shop disappear for a second as they look into each other's eyes.

Then Daishou makes his way over to Kuroo.

“What are you doing here?” Daishou asks as he takes the seat next to Kuroo.

“Oh, I just told Yachi, I’d walk her home after her and Kiyoko’s date next door.” Kuroo shrugs but turns his body so that he faces Daishou.

“They are on a date?” Daishou asks.

“Yeah, Kiyoko asked her earlier today,” Kuroo answers.

“Nice going of Kiyoko,” Daishou leans back in his seat, “I haven’t been on a date in ages.”

“I believe that,” Kuroo chimes in with a sly grin on his face.

“What? Are you saying, I’m not charming?” Daishou laments.

“If you’ve been trying to charm me, then you’ve got some real problems.” Kuroo laughs and Daishou just about smiles. The two sip their coffee in silence, Daishou’s coffee, however, is much more enjoyable than Kuroo's.

“I’m sorry that I said your art wasn’t good the first time we met,” Kuroo rubs the back of his neck, “that was uncalled for,” he admits.

Daishou’s eyes widen. “Uhm, yeah, it’s okay,” he mumbles.

Just then Kuroo’s phone buzzes.

“Gotta go play the knight in shining armour.” He holds the phone up as an explanation and gets up and out of the seat.

“Uh, yeah, of course,” Daishou says and follows him out of the coffee shop.

“Hey, Yachi,” Kuroo greets the girl waiting for him.

“Hey, Kuroo,” she responds.

Kuroo turns back to Daishou. “I’ll see you around,” Kuroo says and waves as he and Yachi walk away.

*

The day after Kiyoko and Yachi’s date and another accidental run-in with Kuroo, Daishou seeks him out.

As he steps into Kuroo’s shop, he immediately notices that it’s much lighter than his own. The floor and ceiling are white, large windows filled with plants bring the outside world in. The hospital or dentist office feeling is kept at bay with red and black things. Daishou spots several cats hidden in the pots or on shelves. There’s even a wind chime shaped like an owl, the silliness of a wind chime indoors is negated by the homey feel it all adds to the shop.

Movement catches Daishou’s eye as Kuroo enters the room.

“You,” Kuroo say as he sees Daishou.

“Yes me,” Daishou smirks. “Just wanted to stop by,” he says in a casual tone as if this was a regular occurrence.

“Why?” Kuroo puts down the sketchbook in his hands.

“Well, since you seemed to have so many opinions on my interior design, I thought I would stop by to see how you do it,” Daishou says. “Why so many cats, though?”

“It’s a high school thing, most of these were gifts actually.” Kuroo looks around and looks at all of the various cats.

“And one owl?” Daishou seems genuinely confused by the presence of the lone bird hanging in the corner.

“Bokuto, you’ve met him, gave me that one.” Kuroo smiles at the memory of Bokuto bouncing into the shop carrying the very fragile ceramic owl. He had handed it over with the declaration of “TOO MANY CATS” and demanded Kuroo made room for it, and of course, he had done just that.

“Now that you mention it, it does look a bit like him.” Daishou stares intently at the owl.

“You’re not the first to say that,” Kuroo notes.

The two notice that the conversation between them has become decidedly pleasant, and both grimace.

“So, is there anything else, other than my business ideas, I can help you with?” Kuroo throws a drop of venom back into their conversation, sending them right back into their comfort zone.

“Like you’d have any ideas worth stealing,” Daishou strikes back.

“You wish, you had ideas half as good as mine. Besides, cats are way better than snakes,” Kuroo says with childlike superiority.

“That’s probably the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.” Daishou crosses his arms.

“Well, you haven’t heard my and Bokuto's conversations,” Kuroo says it like it’s a great comeback.

Daishou tilts his head and scrunches his eyebrows. “Well, now I’m not sure I want to,” Daishou says.

“You’re missing out, we’re fun,” Kuroo boasts.

“I’m sure,” Daishou says dryly.

The two are interrupted by the next client walking in through the door. Kuroo responds instantly by straightening his back and putting on a smile.

“Hi, I’ll be right with you,” Kuroo says to the newly arrived person, to Daishou he says, “I’ll see you around.”

Daishou nods and walks out of the bright, homely shop and back into the grey city.

*

A few days after her date, Kiyoko finds herself in front of the dark green tattoo shop. Somewhere on her walk, her route must have changed, and the destination was no longer the familiar coffee shop. She looks up at the faded lettering.

She pulls out her phone from the black purse hanging on her shoulder. It beeps, but the ringing drowns in the sounds of the nearby street.

“Hey, Kiyoko,” Kuroo greets from the other end of the line. “I’m at the coffee shop.”

“I won’t make it today, I’m sorry,” Kiyoko says. “It seems like I have a tattoo appointment.”

“That you didn’t know about?” Kuroo asks.

“Late cancellation.” Kiyoko shrugs, though Kuroo can’t see her. “Daishou just called me.”

“Daishou?” Kuroo says. “Not you, too,” he whines.

“His tattoos are very special,” Kiyoko defends.

“I’m coming with you,” Kuroo declares. Kiyoko hears a bell ring from the other end of the line. “I’m meeting you there,” Kuroo hangs up.

Kiyoko puts her phone away with a sigh, resigning herself to the fate of having to be with both Kuroo and Daishou in one room.

A few minutes later, Kiyoko sees Kuroo running towards her, a big splash of red in the sea of black coats, his hair flopping all over the place.

He stops in front of her, hands on knees and panting.

“You’ve really gotten out of shape since high school,” Kiyoko remarks dryly.

Kuroo holds up a finger in response, still catching his breath.

“Why were you running anyway?” Kiyoko turns and takes a step towards the door of the tattoo shop.

“Didn’t want you to be late.” Kuroo follows her into the shop.

Hiroo, who is behind the counter, lifts his head, recognizing both of them.

“Here for Daishou?” he asks the pair of them, and Kiyoko gives a nod in response.

Hiroo goes around the counter and calls out towards the back room.

“Daishou, Kiyoko is here!” he calls out. To Kiyoko, he says, “just a minute.”

Kiyoko simply nods before turning to Kuroo. “Try and behave, please.”

Kuroo smirks. “When do I not?”

The exchange is interrupted by Daishou stepping out into the room.

“Why are you here?” He looks straight at Kuroo, arms crossed.

“I’m just accompanying my friend.” Kuroo puts on the biggest smile.

Daishou scoffs but motions for them to follow him into the backroom.

Daishou takes Kiyoko’s hand and holds it at—what to Kuroo seems like—a weird height to hold anything. He watches them keep eye contact for a few seconds, then more seconds, and then some more. He is about to clear his throat when Daishou finally lets Kiyoko’s hand fall.

“Do you want to see beforehand?” Daishou asks, to which Kiyoko just shakes her head.

“Oh, did you bring a snack and something to drink?” Daishou perks up as he remembers to ask this.

“I should have something in here” Kiyoko smiles and pats her handbag.

Daishou nods and shows the way to a chair, and Kiyoko settles into it.

“Any preference for placement?” Daishou asks.

In response Kiyoko shrugs off her sweater revealing not only a tank top but also vines of roses. Vines swirling on her shoulder, falling down the blade off it, just barely staying off of the space where shoulder turns to arm.

“Here.” Kiyoko draws an oval around the space below the lowest rose on her upper arm.

Daishou nods and turns on his machine, the low hum of it filling the room. The sound instantly makes Kuroo relax, and his shoulders fall. He watches Daishou tattoo Kiyoko, no sketch, no marks to trace, but as far as Kuroo can tell, not a single line is out of place.

None of them speaks, Kiyoko is leaned back, eyes closed. Never has Kuroo seen anyone this serene while being tattooed. Daishou is fully focused on what he’s doing, and Kuroo somehow can’t take his eyes off of Daishou.

Time passes, shown by the lines appearing on Kiyoko one by one, the hands moving on the clock, but not by Daishou: He remains focused, not tiring in the slightest.

Kuroo's eyes stray from Daishou’s hands and the work the machine does. His eyes pass up, past Daishou’s arm and land on his neck. The snake is resting. The tattoo is intricate, each scale defined delicately as if a real snake had sunken into Daishou’s skin and found a home.

Kuroo doesn’t realise that he is absolutely staring at Daishou’s neck until the snake lifts its head. It looks straight at him.

Kuroo jumps up and out of the chair, drawing the attention of both Kiyoko and Daishou.

“You okay?” Kiyoko asks.

“Fresh air.” Kuroo leaves the room with brisk steps.

“Weird dude,” Daishou mumbles before going back to work. “We’re almost done though.”

Kiyoko sits through the rest of it, and soon the tattoo is finished. On her arm is now the head of Medusa, eyes closed, snakes floating around Medusa’s head as if suspended in water.

Kiyoko stands and admires the tattoo in the mirror when Kuroo enters again.

“So would you tattoo me?” Kuroo asks, his usual self-assured grin back on his face.

“No.” Daishou barely looks up from the equipment he’s cleaning.

“What? Why?” Kuroo asks, just short of grabbing his heart in shock.

“If you can’t see the magic in my tattoos, you don’t deserve one,” Daishou answers, smiling at the indignant look on Kuroo’s face.

“What kind of bullshit is that?” Kuroo asks, his face slowly turning into a scowl.

“If you can’t see the magic,” Daishou sneers, “you’re not worth the time.”

Kuroo is suddenly reminded of a snake striking.

“Screw you,” Kuroo bites out, and Daishou’s laughter follows him out of the shop.

Kuroo walks, grumbling to himself through the streets of the city.

He walks into his own shop to find Bokuto waiting for him again.

“Shouldn’t you be at practice or something?” Kuroo throws his jacket against the wall beneath the hangers.

“Not for a few hours.” Bokuto shrugs. “What’s wrong?”

“Daishou.” Kuroo sends a glare in the direction of the shop.

Bokuto can’t help but chuckle. “What did he do now?”

“I asked him if he would give me a tattoo,” Kuroo begrudgingly mumbles out. Bokuto raises his eyebrows. “And you know what he said?” The anger is back in Kuroo's voice.

Bokuto shakes his head.

“He said,” Kuroo twists his face into a grimace, “if you can’t see the magic in my tattoos, you don’t deserve one,” Kuroo says in an exaggerated, mocking tone.

Bokuto bursts out laughing, a belly-deep, rumbling sound that echoes in the room.

“It’s not funny,” Kuroo protests.

“Sorry,” Bokuto chuckles on. “What did you say to that?”

“I said ‘screw you’ and came here.” Kuroo rubs the back of his neck.

Bokuto’s laughter once again rises in volume.

Kuroo stares at Bokuto. Or, stares at Bokuto’s arm. He rushes forward and grabs Bokuto’s bicep.

“Did your tattoo always look like this?” He sticks his face close to it. “The owl?” He shakes Bokuto’s arm. “Did the owl always sit at that spot?” Kuroo looks up into Bokuto’s eyes.

“Hey, buddy,” Bokuto says. “Maybe you should try and sleep, you seem really freaked out.” He wraps an arm around Kuroo and leads him to where Bokuto knows there is a couch.

Kuroo lies down, pulls a blanket over himself and falls asleep. Bokuto shakes his head and leaves the shop.

*

The next morning, Kuroo wakes up groggy and stiff from sleeping on the couch. He stretches his back and gets up.

“Coffee,” he mumbles to himself before heading out of the back room.

“Did you sleep okay?” Bokuto greets him in the front room of his shop.

“Shit,” Kuroo exclaims, “do you never have practice or anything?”

“In a few hours,” Bokuto answers. “Are we going for coffee?”

“Sure” Kuroo sighs. “WAIT!” He grabs Bokuto’s arm again and studies the tattoo closely.

“I swear that bird is in a new place again.” Kuroo shakes his head and lets Bokuto’s arm go.

“You just need coffee.” Bokuto slings an arm around Kuroo and drags him towards the coffee shop.

On the way there, Bokuto rambles on about practice and upcoming games. Kuroo nods and hums along where it is appropriate, but his mind strays to Bokuto’s tattoo.

The bell above the coffee shop door breaks his trance. The coffee shop is sparsely populated at this time of day, where most people have gone to work, but no one has started studying yet.

Bokuto orders coffee for both of them, chatting loudly with Akaashi, a friend of theirs that works as a barista.

Someone waves at Kuroo from a booth in the back, and he walks over.

“Kiyoko!” he greets Kiyoko, who had waved at him, “and Yachi,” he turns and greets Yachi sitting across from Kiyoko.

He slides into the booth next to Kiyoko, who was swift to move her own cup of coffee.

Bokuto bounces over moments later with his and Kuroo’s coffee. He squishes himself into the booth next to Yachi, who had been quick to make plenty of space.

Again, Bokuto takes control of the conversation, and the girls listen, so Kuroo’s thoughts are free to wander. At first, he thinks about Bokuto’s tattoo and the little owl changing its place. Then he thinks of other tattoos, tattoos he knows Daishou has done.

He looks at Yachi, and the kitten resting on her collarbone. He looks at it, he looks at it so long he can almost see it breathing, see it’s tail swaying back and forth.

He looks down, he looks at Medusa sleeping on Kiyoko’s arm. Only to see that she wasn’t sleeping, and the snakes weren’t floating. Medusa was looking straight at him, the snakes had all turned their heads to look at him.

Kuroo stands up abruptly. The three other people at the table turn to look at him.

“Seriously, guys,” Kuroo begins. “Either I’m going crazy or something is up with your tattoos.” Kuroo runs a hand through his hair.

“Please tell me I’m not going crazy.” Kuroo looks at them. No one says anything for a few seconds.

“You’re not crazy, Kuroo,” Yachi says in a small voice.

“What then?” he bites, though not angry at Yachi, the annoyance had burned through.

“Nothing,” she whispers.

“Fine.” Kuroo takes his cup of coffee spins around and walks out of the coffee shop with long strides.

Kuroo storms into the tattoo shop, a flurry of black and red as his coat ripples in his wake. Koji, at the front desk, barely manages to see him before he enters the backroom where Daishou is cleaning up.

“What the hell is going on?” Kuroo erupts, making Daishou stop cleaning and look up.

“I’m cleaning.” Daishou rolls his eyes. “You might be unfamiliar,” he sneers.

“I’m not here for your shitty jokes,” Kuroo almost growls. “Something is going on, and you need to tell me what it is.” Kuroo steps further into the room.

“What you need to get into that ugly head of yours,” Daishou gets up, “is that I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“There’s something going on,” Kuroo runs his hands through his hair, “and it all comes back to you.” He sighs.

Daishou rolls his eyes. “I really don’t know what you’re going on about.”

“I need you to tell me why the tattoos you do can move.” Kuroo's voice goes low as he steps closer to Daishou. His eyes drift to Daishou’s neck, the snake coiled around it as usual. Kuroo notices the subtle waves of motion going through the snake. It lifts its head. Bares its fangs. Kuroo stumbles a step back.

Daishou rubs his neck.

“Okay, fine,” he bites out. “They move,” he gives in.

“HOW?” Kuroo yells, arms out, almost touching Daishou.

“See, what I don’t get is how you can be friends with Bokuto, Yachi, and Kiyoko for years and not figure it out.” The sneer is back in Daishou’s voice.

“What do you mean?” Kuroo's voice turns to a whisper.

“You seriously mean to tell me that the oh-so-great Kuroo Tetsurou has never noticed that his friends are all special?” Daishou tilts his head as he looks up at Kuroo. “You’ve never noticed how Bokuto has always jumped just a little higher than he should? Or how Yachi’s cakes and other baked goods always turn out perfect? Or how Kiyoko always has exactly what she needs in her purse?” With each person he mentions, he moves closer and closer to Kuroo.

“You’re telling me, you’ve never noticed?” Daishou whispers, now only centimetres away from Kuroo.

“I—” Kuroo trails off. Looking at Daishou, his eyes drift again, this time to his lips. “I never thought about it.” Kuroo looks him straight in the eyes.

“You never thought about it?” Daishou chuckles, a low sound that vibrates throughout the room.

Kuroo feels the vibrations from Daishou’s chest in his own. He lifts a hand and reaches behind Daishou’s head. Grabs onto Daishou’s hair and pulls their lips together.

A small “oh” escapes Daishou’s lips just before they connect with Kuroo's.

Daishou lifts his hand, resting them on Kuroo's chest. Their lips move together as they sink into each others’ arms.

Kuroo pulls away, ever-so-slightly. Daishou grabs onto Kuroo’s jacket and pulls him right back in. Kuroo can’t stop a smile from forming on his lips, still kissing Daishou.

The two break apart, and for a few seconds, reality is kept at bay as they enjoy each other’s embrace just a little longer.

Then reality creeps in, and the two spring apart.

“I...” Kuroo tries. “We...” he tries again, but in the end, he just turns and walks briskly out of the shop.

Daishou is left alone in the now empty room. “Fuck,” he whispers as he lifts a hand up to touch his lips.

*

The next morning is grey and dreary, the rain sticks to the windows in large droplets. Kuroo’s coat is pulled high around his face as he walks with large steps through the street towards his usual coffee shop.

The other people rush in all directions, Kuroo has to dodge several umbrellas to keep both of his eyes. His hair is starting to fall more into his eyes, wet and sticking to his forehead. He makes no effort to try and brush it away, knowing it would be futile.

He opens the coffee shop door, and the warm air of the inside washes over him like a blanket. He breathes in the smell of coffee and smiles. He walks up to the till and orders from Akaashi, though without Bokuto the conversation is much shorter.

The cup is warm in his hands, and the first sip of coffee warms him all the way through.

He doesn’t sit at one of the tables today, though there are plenty free and the thought of not having to return to the rain so soon is appealing. He walks towards the door, his mind straying elsewhere.

“Hey,” someone says, just before Kuroo crashes into them. Kuroo looks at them, him, and Kuroo’s eyes widen.

“Oh,” Kuroo says as he lays eyes on the green-haired man in front of him.

“You,” Daishou whispers at the same time.

“So how are you?” Kuroo says after he clears his throat.

Daishou scrunches his brows and tilts his head. “Fine, I guess,” Daishou says softly.

“Okay, that’s good.” Kuroo nods his head. “I guess, I’ll see you around.”

“I guess,” Daishou replies and goes to step around Kuroo.

Except Kuroo steps in the same direction. Then they both step in the other direction, and then they do it again.

Kuroo chuckles awkwardly and places a hand on Daishou’s shoulder.

“Just stand still.” Kuroo gives Daishou a small smile, before stepping around him and walking out the door.

“Shit,” Daishou whispers to himself. “What do I do?” He stands for a few seconds before spinning on his heel and following Kuroo out the door.

“Kuroo!” Daishou yells after the man that is slowly walking away and disappearing down the street.

Daishou jogs a few steps to catch up to Kuroo who had gotten a head start.

Kuroo turns around with a quizzical look on his face.

The rain has stopped falling, and the grey sky lightened, people have packed away their umbrellas. The two men stand in front of each other, in the middle of the sidewalk. The other pedestrians are walking around them, creating their own little island of stillness.

Daishou takes a deep breath. “If you still want that tattoo...” he hesitates, but looks into Kuroo’s eyes, “you are welcome to just come by someday soon,” he pauses, “or it doesn’t have to be soon, whenever fits you, I’m sure, I have time for you.”

“So now I’m worth the time?” Kuroo asks, his tone soft though the question has sharper edges than he intended.

Daishou remembers what he said only a few days earlier and winces. “Yeah, you are.” Daishou looks at Kuroo again and smiles. Then he turns around and walks back to the coffee shop, leaving a stunned Kuroo behind.

Kuroo stands on the sidewalk, people walking by and occasionally into him. He doesn’t notice, he doesn’t notice when people tell him to move or when they ask what his problem is. He just stands there looking after the green disappearing in the distance and into the coffee shop.

Kuroo finally snaps himself out of his trance. He turns away from the direction in which Daishou went and walks with brisk steps back to his own shop.

Kuroo enters his own shop and sees Bokuto waiting for him.

“When do you have practice?” Kuroo asks while taking off his damp jacket.

“In a few hours.” Bokuto shrugs. “What took you so long?” He jumps up from his seat.

“I ran into Daishou.” Kuroo rubs his hands over his face.

Bokuto perks up. “How did that go?”

“He’s an idiot,” Kuroo declares.

“Bro…” Bokuto chuckles and shakes his head.

“Okay fine,” Kuroo sighs. “He’s not as much an idiot anymore.”

Bokuto raises an eyebrow.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Kuroo says.

Bokuto just holds his stare.

“I kissed him yesterday,” Kuroo admits.

“You did what?” Bokuto’s eyes widen.

“I kissed him, okay?” Kuroo says. “I went over there because I wanted him to explain, he was being an idiot, and then I just kissed him for a little bit.” Kuroo gestures wildly with his hands before he runs them through his hair.

Bokuto laughs. “You kissed him for a little bit?” Bokuto manages to get the sentence out in breaths in between his laughter. He takes a few deep breaths before stating, “so you like him.”

“Of course, I don’t like him,” Kuroo scoffs. “He’s a snarky bastard.”

“But he’s your snarky bastard.” Bokuto clasps his hands together and flutters his eyelashes at Kuroo.

Kuroo waves a hand in Bokuto’s face. “Stop that.”

“So you kissed him and what now?” Bokuto still has a big grin on his face.

“He offered to give me a tattoo.” Kuroo shrugs nonchalantly. “But I won’t do it.”

“Bro...” Bokuto says. “Why not?” he whines.

“‘Cause he’s an idiot, and I definitely don’t like him.” Kuroo shakes his head along with the words.

“But you do like him, even if he’s an idiot.” Bokuto sits back down.

“No, I think he’s annoying, and that his jokes are dumb,” Kuroo starts. “I definitely don’t like the way his eyes look when he’s teasing me, or how soft his hair looks, or his really, really cool snake tattoo or that he’s the only one that I can talk with like that, he never gets sad about my jokes.” Kuroo throws a little jab for Bokuto in there.

“Hey!” Bokuto caught it. “I only do that sometimes,” Bokuto sulks for a second.

“But, dude,” Bokuto chuckles, “you totally like him.”

Kuroo sighs, having realised the same thing. “Fine.” Kuroo resigns. “I like him, and I want to get the tattoo.”

“Then do it!” Bokuto shouts.

“That’s easy for you to say,” Kuroo mumbles, but he knows. He knows that he should do it, he would regret it otherwise, and he knows that he likes Daishou. He knows it like he knows the sun will rise tomorrow, like he knows the tides will come and go.

Bokuto sticks his tongue out in Kuroo's direction.

“Tomorrow,” Kuroo says and gets on with the day's work.

*

Kuroo wakes up later than usual the next day, hair sticking in every possible direction. The clouds from yesterday have floated away, leaving blue sky and sunshine to take over the day.

Kuroo goes through the motions of getting ready, pants, shirt, socks, then shoes and coat. When he stops outside, the sunlight washes over his face, and he can’t help but smile as he walks further out into it.

The streets are surprisingly empty for a regular, sunny day. Kuroo makes his way down the street, without bumping into anyone or having to dodge any umbrellas. He walks past the coffee shop, with only a glance inside. He sees Bokuto chatting to Akaashi, but Kuroo only shakes his head fondly as he walks on. The way is encoded into his brain by now, and he doesn't even have to think as he turns corners or crosses streets.

He enters the shop, the dark green more like a comforting blanket than the dark suffocation he had felt the first time he visited.

Hiroo stands behind the counter as usual, this time scrolling on his phone. He clearly didn’t notice Kuroo entering. Kuroo clears his throat. Hiroo lifts his head.

“What do you want?” Hiroo asks bluntly.

“Uhmm, is Daishou in?” Kuroo rubs the back of his neck.

“You usually know how to find him all by yourself,” Hiroo says, a sarcastic tinge to his voice, but he points towards the back room nonetheless.

Kuroo walks with slow steps towards the room, rehearsing the next sentences in his mind. When he sees Daishou, however, the rehearsed lines disappear from Kuroo’s head entirely.

Daishou sits at a desk, sunlight playing in his hair like in grass on a summer’s day. He is bent over the desk sketching, eyes trained on the paper, cut off from the world inside his bubble.

“Hi,” Kuroo starts, and Daishou’s head snaps up.

“Kuroo,” he whispers.

“If the offer still stands, I’d like that tattoo.” Kuroo smiles at Daishou.

“Sure.” Daishou nods. “Um, you know how this goes.” He walks around the desk and leads Kuroo towards a chair.

“Don’t you have to stare into my soul or something?” Kuroo asks.

“Ahh no, I actually drew it up yesterday,” Daishou admits.

“What is it?” Kuroo asks, sitting up straighter.

“It’s a surprise,” Daishou says with a wink.

“Aww, come on,” Kuroo whines, but with a smile on his face.

“Don’t you trust me?” Daishou asks and gives Kuroo a smirk. “And take off your shirt,” Daishou mumbles the last part.

“Sure,” Kuroo states. He takes off his shirt and presents his upper arm to Daishou. Daishou looks at Kuroo, now shirtless, leaned back in the tattoo chair.

“You’re nice. I mean, your arm is nice. You have a nice arm,” Daishou rambles, without looking up at Kuroo's face, instead keeping his eyes on said arm.

“Oh, thanks,” Kuroo mumbles.

Daishou starts wiping Kuroo's arm with the disinfectant, and then keeps wiping his arm much longer than necessary. Kuroo feels the warmth of Daishou’s hands through the gloves.

“Do you really need to do that, I thought you were a professional?” Kuroo teases lightly.

“Do what?” Daishou looks up, his hands still gliding over Kuroo’s arm.

“That.” Kuroo waves his other hand over Daishou’s moving one.

“What?” Daishou asks though he is starting to realise exactly what he is doing.

“That thing you’re doing right now. With your hands,” Kuroo explains further.

“Disinfecting your arm? Yeah, I kinda have to if you want that tattoo,” Daishou huffs. “You should know that.”

Kuroo shoots him a small glare before saying, “No, idiot, the touching.”

“Maybe that’s part of my excellent customer service,” Daishou shoots back.

“Ew.” Kuroo scrunches up his nose.

Daishou takes his hand off of Kuroo, and suddenly his arm feels colder.

“I didn’t say, I didn't want your excellent service,” Kuroo grumbles angrily.

Daishou shakes his head with a smile while he readies the machine.

“Ready?” he asks, and Kuroo nods in reply.

The silence is overtaken by the buzzing of the machine. The needles prick Kuroo’s skin, but he barely feels the pain.

“Is the pain thing part of the magic?” Kuroo asks, genuine curiosity clear in his voice.

“Yeah, and the healing time will be very short, too,” Daishou answers while gliding the machine over Kuroo’s skin, following the lines of the sketch.

“Cool,” Kuroo says, considering the facts he’s learning.

The silence once again takes over, as Daishou continues to work. It gnaws at Kuroo, and he feels like he has to smash it somehow.

“I don’t let just anyone tattoo me, you know,” is what Kuroo chooses to go with. He bites the inside of his cheek.

“Aww, are you saying, I’m special?” Daishou quips back in no time.

“Especially annoying, sure,” Kuroo says, though the sarcasm from earlier in their relationship has been swapped for teasing fondness.

“So who has tattooed you?” Daishou asks.

“Uhh, Tora. He has a shop on the other side of town, once, and then Bokuto did one.” Kuroo looks up as he remembers.

“Bokuto? Your pro volleyball player friend?” Daishou pauses and looks up in confusion.

“The very one.” Kuroo laughs.

“How did that go?” Daishou says, his tone makes it clear that he expects the worst from the coming story.

“Well…” Kuroo holds up his other arm, and on the inside of his bicep is the tattoo of a kanji done in all black.

“Is that the kanji for anti-?” Daishou asks.

“You caught that faster than we did.” Kuroo chuckles slightly. “It was supposed to be the one for friend.”

“But Bokuto is illiterate?” Daishou teases.

“Very funny,” Kuroo says dryly. “But yeah, Akaashi wasn’t available for a consult, but he went for it anyway.”

“Akaashi the barista?” Daishou reacts to the familiar name.

“Yeah, he pointed out our mistake the second he saw it, too.” Kuroo smiles fondly at the memory.

“We freaked out, of course,” Kuroo continues. “Bokuto was sad for weeks.”

“How did you cheer him up?” Daishou asks.

“Another friend, Tsukishima, pointed out that it would be an easy fix,” Kuroo says.

“So why didn’t you?” Daishoo continues asking. “Fix it, I mean.”

“We decided that this was funnier.” Kuroo would have shrugged if it hadn’t been for Daisou tattooing his arm.

“Of course, you did.” Daisou laughs quietly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Kuroo asks feigning offence.

“Just seems like you,” Daishou mumbles.

For a few minutes the buzzing of the machine is the only sound again, but this time Daishou breaks the silence.

“All done.” He slaps Kuroo's arm lightly.

“Really? Already?” Kuroo perks up.

Daishou nods, and Kuroo jumps out of the chair. He goes to stand in front of the mirror and looks at his new tattoo.

A panther now adorns his entire arm, standing proud and winding around Kuroo's shoulder.

“Wow,” Kuroo breathes out. “I like you—” Kuroo’s eyes widen “—it! Both?” he says slightly high-pitched. He is looking in the mirror, but he has taken his eyes off of the panther and is now looking at Daishou's reflection. “It’s hot” is the last thing he settles on to say.

“You think a panther is hot?” Daishou laughs, genuinely and bright.

“I think you’re hot,” Kuroo states, his own smile forming. He looks Daishou in the eyes through the mirror.

“Hotter than a panther?” Daishou teases.

“For fuck’s sake.” Kuroo turns around and for the second time in only twice as many days, Kuroo grabs Daishou by the shirt and pulls him into a kiss.

Daishou is warm, and Kuroo slides his hand down to pull him tighter by the waist.

“You’re not bad, either,” Daishou says as they break apart, foreheads still together.

Kuroo laughs, and then he kisses him again, all soft, all smiles and all happiness.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Sigwa made some really good art for this fic which you can check out here [ on tumblr](https://sigwa.tumblr.com/post/639279109732728832/something-i-did-for-the-hqurbanfantasybang) and here [ on twitter](https://twitter.com/_sigwa/status/1345658195495174144)
> 
> Link to [tumblr post](https://fanfic4u.tumblr.com/post/639243523034660864/fic-under-your-skin) \- a like and reblog would make us very, very happy <3


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